


СТАНЬ ДЛЯ МЕНЯ

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Furry, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-28 23:48:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3874477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fíli’s heat is a bit different than most wolf cubs’, but Kíli still helps him through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	СТАНЬ ДЛЯ МЕНЯ

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rutobuka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rutobuka/gifts).



> A/N: Inspired by some friggin’ adorable wolfy Fíli/Kíli art by the amazingly talented [Rutobuka.](http://nastyrutobuka.tumblr.com/) (Title translates to "Be For Me"; was listening to a song by Olga Gorbacheva)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Kíli goes into a full on heat every few months, where he’s completely insatiable and will spill himself against the first alpha he can find, though he’s never finished until he’s been inside his brother. He’ll drag Fíli down into soft sheets and tumble across the mattress for hours on end, licking and sucking and kissing and grinding himself into warm, inviting flesh, while Fíli spreads his legs wider to meet his beloved’s needs. 

Fíli’s heat works a little differently. He rarely goes to the extremes his brother does, but he’s frequently wracked with the sudden longing for _affection_. He goes wild for it, the way Kíli will for sex, and he’ll whimper and nuzzle at whoever he can reach. Sometimes Thorin will pat him on the head, hold him and soothe him, but Dwalin and Balin won’t do more than scratch him below his chin and sometimes rub his belly. He’s already had these miniature heats several times on the quest, and Nori and Bofur are always happy to oblige, Bifur also good to cuddle with and Ori good at petting him, Dori and Óin attentive but always holding back. Glóin and Bombur are married and won’t even touch him when he gets like this. Bilbo, the poor thing, always blushes and looks away.

But it’s _Kíli_ Fíli always wants, anyway. He doesn’t care if Kíli’s just another omega. He _needs_ Kíli, the same way Kíli needs him when the heat strikes, and Fíli scrambles out of Thorin’s lap when it’s too much. He presses a kiss to Thorin’s temple, then scampers off, his nose in the air and already picking up Kíli’s scent. He could track Kíli from half a world away. He finds Kíli talking to one of the elves, ears perked and tail wagging, but that ends as soon as their eyes connect. Kíli knows when he’s in need, and Fíli only has to tug on Kíli’s hand for Kíli to follow him. 

They find one of the private rooms; Lord Elrond’s given them so many, thought most prefer their makeshift camp, all clumped together. For this, Fíli would like some _alone time_ : a nice, quiet place to bask in his brother. He commandeers Fíli into the first empty one he can find, herding Kíli onto the bed, and Kíli goes laughing and smiling. His fluffy tail wags, but not as much as Fíli’s. It couldn’t be. He’s normal; Fíli’s _wild_. The heat has him, fills him, and that’s all his world becomes: he’s touch-starved and desperate for Kíli, Kíli, _Kíli_. 

He pushes Kíli down onto the sheets and nuzzles into him, doesn’t even kiss him. Just noses against his cheeks, the scruff of his jaw, his mustache and his forehead. Fíli wraps around Kíli’s body, too dizzy to touch specific places. His hands have become like paws, not physically but emotionally; he’s the wolf his ears and tail denote. He can only hug. Kíli kisses the side of his nose, warm and soft, and murmurs, “I love you,” into the side of his face. 

Fíli smiles happily. He doesn’t quite know how to respond; he tries to speak but it comes out like a mewl, a whine. Kíli laughs, understanding. He brushes Fíli’s hair and braids aside and does it again. Fíli’s eyes close and his mouth opens in delight, while his brother scatters his face in kisses, each one full of safety, and trust, and complete fondness. Fíli’s tail is wagging at the speed of light; he feels bubbly and dizzy with adoration. Kíli feels _so good in his arms._

Kíli, Kíli. It’s a mantra in his head. He lets go of Kíli’s body only long enough to steady himself in the mattress, his face lifting so he can lick up the side of Kíli’s face, down from his chin up to the tip of his cheek. Kíli grits his teeth to contain his giggles, but Fíli can still feel them in his body. Fíli laps at his brother’s face, unable to stop, tracing stubble and little hairs, soft skin and firm contours. Kíli is always beautiful to him, in the haze of heat or on its own. Kíli holds onto his middle, steadying his sides. 

Fíli licks lower, lower, lapping away down the underside of Kíli’s chin, all down his throat, wets the tip of his tunic and then manages to rein it in, nuzzling instead. He rubs his face along Kíli’s taut chest and noses beneath his arms, sniffing at his armpits: the raw musk and scent of unwashed _wolf_ , _Durin_ , _Kíli_. Their smell is similar, but not quite the same. It isn’t as strong as Thorin’s. They aren’t alphas, and they’re younger. But it’s powerful and alluring all the same, and Fíli inhales as much as he can before he has to stop to breathe, and then he’s just squirming, not so much humping as rubbing, grinding them together just because he can. 

Sometimes, he wants to _press them together_. Meld them into one. Sometimes, it doesn’t feel like they should’ve been made two separate dwarves.

But other times, he’s glad they are, so he can find solace in these arms, so he can lick at Kíli’s face and nuzzle into Kíli’s chest and _hold on tight_ , and he can hear Kíli’s beautiful voice and feel thick fingers through his hair. Kíli says, “I love you,” again, even though Fíli knows it. It makes his cheeks light up and his tail and ears perk every time. He gives each one of Kíli’s armpits a final nuzzle, and then he noses his way back up to Kíli’s neck, licking at the side of his face again. Fíli pesters Kíli and pants out his pleasure and whimpers and keens and mewls until he’s spent all his energy on fidgeting alone, and Kíli starts sighing lazily, “I love you, I love you...”

Eventually, Kíli pushes him off. Fíli wilts immediately, wanting to growl or whimper, but Kíli kisses his forehead and says, “Shush, now; I know you aren’t finished.” He just needs the space to push the blankets back, and then he’s tugging at Fíli, and Fíli understands. He buries into the blankets, fully clothed, and lets Kíli take care of him, pull off his boots and push off his coat, tossing them off the mattress, out into the open Elven room, too tall and pretty. He pulls the blankets back over them, and they lie side by side, squirming to fit their limbs together, legs and arms intertwined. 

Kíli pets him, scratches him behind his ears and smoothes down his golden hair, licking him back. Fíli nuzzles into Kíli’s neck where he can, cooing joyfully. He could lie right here forever, he thinks, just like this, and he would be _so happy._ The heat will end sometime, and Kíli will still love him, but for now he needs this affection, and Kíli delivers beautifully. He licks Fíli’s forehead and purrs, “I love you,” kisses Fíli’s cheek and insists, “I love you,” thumbs the braids away from Fíli’s mouth and pecks him, promising sweetly, “I love you.”

Fíli clings to him. They lie like that for hours, until their alphas come to find them, and by then Fíli’s a puddle of delight that needs to be carried off to his proper bed, always reaching out for his brother with both arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Gorgeous fanart inspiration by [Rutobuka.](http://nastyrutobuka.tumblr.com/post/118162661715/dont-click-on-the-picture-or-the-links-below-if)


End file.
